


The Effect of Music

by the1maplejoe



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Daniel Howell - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pianist, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Haunting, High School, M/M, Minor Character Death, Music, Musical Instruments, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Violins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the1maplejoe/pseuds/the1maplejoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan plays piano in an abandoned music hall and is suddenly joined by a surprise violinist. Together, using music they create a sanctuary away from all the sadness and loneliness that plagues them every night. But will the sanctuary hold as pressure builds and things collapse in their personal life, or will they find solstice in each other? (Yes it's cheesy, I'm just terrible at summaries. Just read it if you enjoy musical elements, fluff with some plot, and bad jokes.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Music Dances

I brushed the keys of the piano softly and like the touch of an infant. Curious and caressing, the notes rang out unsure but clear. It was a simple tune, just using my right hand. It wasn’t time for the left hand, not just yet. The melody continued slowly, gaining and growing as I gained confidence and pressed the white and black keys harder on the old wooden piano. Soon the melody was ringing out with the tone of an old music box, it echoed in the empty music hall making the ginormous room seem impending and hollow in a sad lonely kind of way.

  
I slowly lifted my left hand, and pressed down a chord and the simple melody repeated. The music reverberated against the marble walls and wooden paneling. The floor to ceiling windows seemed to light up as the stars twinkled and danced to my melody.

  
I know it is silly to think that my little private piano solo could cause balls of gas and dust to dance several light-years away, but the stars seemed to wink and twinkle in time to the music. As if it was a ballet between them and the cosmos. The moon shone in onto the hard wood flooring of the dark music hall, creating the atmosphere perfect for my lullaby. The song swelled and soon I was banging away carefully at the piano, rolling my hands and pressing chords playing for the stars to waltz to.  
My eyes were closed, I didn’t need to see the keys on the piano to play my song, seeing as it was so familiar to me that one could say it was the song of my heart. I smiled to myself as I realized how cheesy I sounded, the song of my heart? Now all I need is to swoon and stare dramatically away from the windows.

  
I continued playing, and smiled quietly to myself. The joy I felt of pressing very note correctly, of having every single chord and sound come together perfectly, was absolutely intoxicating. I was building a little sanctuary, and I was almost finished. I rolled my shoulders and opened my eyes, and watched the stars. The peaceful quietness, the one beyond my realm of music I was playing into existence, gave me a sense of security and purpose. I felt safe. I felt safe in the fact that I was alone, and that I was okay. I was alive and the stars were there, painting away at night sky just like how I was painting the silence with sounds. I closed my eyes again, and swayed in time to the music. Lifting my hands, stroking the ivory keys with reverence and finesse.

  
The song was almost done, but I wasn’t ready to be finished. I didn’t want to stop, so I paused for a moment and then resumed again from the beginning. That is when I heard it. The resonating sounds of a violin, playing in time to my piano. My eyes flew open and there I saw him. A stranger standing in front of the window, playing the violin. His black hair swaying softly and almost playfully in the moonlight as his bow embraced the strings, pulling out the softest and sweetest notes from the instrument. His eyes were closed behind black glasses, and he had his brow furrowed in concentration and a small smile dancing across his lips.

  
I almost stopped playing, taken by surprise at how breathtaking he was. He was preforming with my music, together we were creating a symphony of consonances and dissonances that harmonized and played on each other. We were creating a world together, not just a sanctuary but an entire dominion. The melodies melded together, pulling together and apart. It was so…beautiful. My thoughts were not coming together, I was too muddled by the situation.  
We continued playing together, him swaying under the stars pulling delicate melodies out of his violin and me caressing the keys of the piano. Together we created a little world, a little world of sounds and emotions, a place of beauty and peace.  
And sadly as all good things do, the song ended all too soon and silence shrouded the music hall.

  
After a while, he spoke softly, as if he felt guilty breaking the silence. “That was amazing.”

  
“It was.” I divulged even quieter, completely awestruck. Who was this stranger, I wanted to know. I looked at him curiously for a moment before I lost my courage and stared back at the piano keys before me.  
We sat comfortably in the silence, seemingly scared to break the atmosphere.

“Phil.” He whispered quite suddenly.

  
“Sorry what?” I asked.

  
“My name is Phil. I heard your piano solo as I was heading to bed, and thought I would join.” He looked down at his shoes, scuffing them against the hard wood floor. “I hope I didn’t ruin the mood, or intruded on your moment. It’s just… It is an incredible lullaby, did you write it?” He questioned. He looked up at me with giant blue eyes.

  
It caught me off guard. “Ummm…”I stuttered. He looked at my expectantly, then chuckled and looked out the window. His bow and violin were hanging by his side, resting and awaiting for the next chorus. Phil waited my answer patiently, and once I had my thoughts together I spoke softly.

“Yes, I…I wrote the song.” I pushed my hair out of my face, nervous at the fact someone had entered my domain and was now asking me questions. “My name is Dan. I come here to get out of my own head. I loved your violin playing, how did you know how to harmonize with me?” As I asked Phil, I got up from the piano and walked over to look out the window with him. The stars were even more hypnotic closer to the window.

  
He laughed under his breath, “I have been playing for years, and I recognized the key signature and chords you were using the first time, so when you played again I couldn’t help myself.” He turned and looked at me and smiled. “Dan huh? Sounds like Spam!” He giggled at his own joke and turned back to the window, looking up at the stars.

  
I just looked at him, and scoffed, “Spam?” I was horrendously confused, did he just call me spam? He just looked at me out of the corner of his eye and smiled before returning to gazing at the sky. I snickered under my breath and looked up at the sky with him. We stood like that together, just enjoying each other’s company and the quiet solstice we had created.

  
“I always liked night more than day, so much more to see.” Phil commented suddenly.

  
“Yeah. It’s quiet and allows one to think over how truly tiny we are in this universe.” I replied.

  
He looked over at me, turning so his whole body was facing me. I turned my head and looked at him, cocking my head just a bit. “True, we may be small but at least that will be an adorable factor for when the aliens come to take us!” He giggled and raised his bow in the air, as if he was leading an advance in an army.

  
I laugh quietly, there was that crazy sense of humor that I was slowly becoming addicted to. “Oh so we just look up at the aliens with big eyes and suddenly we are saved?” I inquired.

  
He nodded quickly and turned to put his violin away. Phil kneeled down with his back to me, and in front of the black case. He opened it up and set the wooden instrument down with such care and reverence, is was mesmerizing to watch. He cradled it and touched it gingerly, strapping it down to secure it in place. I could tell he cared a lot about his violin, the look in his eye was tender and almost borderline adoring.

  
“My mother gave me this when I was three. It’s been an old friend, something to rely on for as long as I can remember.” Phil recalled in a somber tone. He sounded sad, almost distant. I was startled by the sudden change of character, he went from joking around to being sad and subdued all within an instant. I waited for him to continue, unsure of how to respond.

  
“Thanks for a fun evening Dan, who knows maybe we can do this again.” He thanked in a muted tone. He stood up carefully, violin case in hand. He then gave a backwards glance and a short wave before disappearing.  
I was left reeling.

  
I wanted to call after him and ask for him to continue, maybe play another song with me, but he was gone and I was too nervous.

  
The silence settled, and I turned my attention the stars. But it just wasn’t the same. I was left pondering about alien and spam.


	2. Where I Act Like A Disney Princess

-Phil’s POV-

  
I ran down the hall as quickly as I could. I was embarrassed, why did I have to waltz in and act like I owned the place. I hugged my violin case to my chest, hoping that my frenzied running wasn’t jarring it too bad, re-tuning the strings would be pain. Plus, it was an old friend that deserved so much respect, and at that thought I made myself slow my gait down to a walk. I was out of the hallway that lead to the unused music hall and now I back into the boy’s dormitories. I walked up a few stairs and took a right into my hall. Down at the end was my dorm and I opened the door carelessly and turned on the light. I then quietly shut the door behind me, even if I didn’t have a roommate doesn’t mean the people to the right of me or across the hall would appreciate me banging the door shut.

  
I lay my violin case on the bed on the right of the wall and tossed myself face down onto the bed on the left. If I had learned anything from Disney movies, it was to throw yourself onto the nearest surface when you are feeling embarrassed or sad. And I was feeling both, so I felt justified being this cheesy and dramatic.

  
I felt embarrassed for walking in on Dan. He looked absolutely confounded after we played together. I buried my head further into my green and blue pillow in the memory of his face just staring at me, his brows knit in confusion and hands fidgeting in his lap. I had intruded on his moment, all because I was awake and exploring around at this ungodly hour and heard a pretty melody come drifting from the abandoned wing of the school.  
Instead of admiring from afar, like I should have, I instead returned immediately to my room and grabbed my violin. I ran as fast as I could in search of the room where the mysterious music was, that was when I saw him. Dan was poised over the piano, pausing for a moment. As if taking stock of the incredible song he had just played and the atmosphere he had just created. He didn’t see me come in because of his intense concentration he was giving the piano keys. His eyes were also closed, and that helped. I remembered looking him over, brown hair a bit disheveled like he was running his hands through it anxiously, jeans and shirt a bit rumbled. But all that paled in comparison to his hands. They were delicate and graceful, tentatively hovering over the ivory keys. Dan didn’t just play piano, he sung the piano into existence. It was a weird concept, one that I was still trying to understand, but saying that Dan just played the piano well did not give him nor the song he played enough credit.

  
If you ask me to evoke emotion, I would without hesitating grab my violin and start to play. But the moment you ask me to use words to describe how Dan played the piano, and I was at a loss. I would have taken out my violin to try and organize my thoughts, but I knew my hall-mates would NOT appreciate a violin wake-up call at this time of night (or morning). So instead I stood up and walked over to the black cocoon where my violin sat nestled away. I opened it reverently and stroked the strings and body. Running my rough calloused fingers over the smooth wood. In my head I played a simple lullaby, the very first song I had learned.

  
The one I played at my mother’s funeral.

  
There was that sting of regret, that twinge of guilt that left an aching sadness in my chest, the one I was becoming too familiar with. I closed the case again and moved it closer to the wall. I turned off the light and lay down on my bed on my back, staring up at the ceiling that was illuminated by the streetlight just outside my window. I hummed the tune I had just played, it was simple and easy to remember. The beauty came from the simplicity, just like with the piano.  
I fell asleep all too quickly, recalling Dan’s brown eyes staring back at me and of the smiling stars dancing in the heavens above.  
~

 

-Dan’s POV-

  
It was nighttime again and the demons came back.

  
“Worthless”

“Puny”

“Can’t even get out of bed.”  
  


"What would father think?”

  
The sly voices twisted and mocked in my head.

  
“You should be studying, but here we are again.”

  
“Didn’t even go to class today, what lie shall you tell tomorrow? That is, if you are alive tomorrow.”

  
I ruffed up my hair, as if I could dispel the mutterings and the murmurings of the darkness in my own head. It didn’t work. I felt my heart race, and my head becoming muddled with the voices and the ideas. I needed to escape this torment.  
But there is no place on earth where you can run away from your mind, well maybe a liquor store but that never ended up well and only dispelled the pain for a moment. I busted out of my room (greatful I didn’t have roommate, they would be angry that I was waking them up this early at night). I felt the air thickening, breathing was becoming hard. Panic is setting in, taking hold of my already limited functions. I bolted for the music hall just around the corner and down a flight of stairs. I made it to the room, and was surprised with how dark it was. The light switch didn’t work and the moon wasn’t in the sky, so the windows only reflected the starlight and streetlights from outside. I saw the piano and almost cried. It was so beautiful. Lame word choice, but it was gorgeous. The old brown wood captured the light to make it look like it was glowing, and the worn ivory keys glinted like jewels.  
The way it sounded, the way it looked, and the way it felt to play it. All could be described with one word. Perfect.

  
I sat down eagerly and pressed a couple keys. The music rang out, soft and sweet. It sounded like an old music box I had given my mother all those years ago, one where she would keep all her best jewelry. I decided to play my mother’s music box song that it would ping out whenever she opened it to admire the jewels around her throat.

  
It was a simple repeating tune, soon I was adding chords, then flourishes, then trills and finally changing to a minor key to emphasize and add mystery. As I played, my mind wandered. It was a strange thing, playing a new song and realizing you haven’t been paying attention to the music but instead to a memory.

  
I stroked the keys, imagining my mother listening to the song as she twirled around the empty hall. I imagined her dancing like a lone flame on a candle, her favorite ruby necklace around her neck catching the light and reflecting it as she waltzed to my tune. Her head thrown back in happiness and a smile spread across her face, her feet swirling and twirling in time. She was wearing a gown made of her favorite color which was lavender.

“Dan, lavender is such a nice color. Always remember lavender, it is a delicate color that resembles strength, a color that defines but doesn’t make royalty. Always remember lavender Daniel, it is the very essence of this life.” I remembered her cooing to me one night as I lay falling asleep in her arms when I was smaller.

  
I missed her, and wished I could see her. If only she didn’t fall in love with that man, if only she didn’t turn to the promises of alcohol when he died, if only…

I played harder, forcing the music to fill my head and force out the “if only’s” that always ended up drowned me in a swirling vortex of terror and regret. The music swelled and reverberated off the drape-less windows. It was so barren in this room, no curtains, rugs or even paintings filled the hollow space. The school had expanded elsewhere, so the music room was moved. The school had no use for this space, so they left it alone. As for the piano, it was too big and too old to move into the new music room so they just left it and barred up the room, forgetting it was even here.

  
I had accidentally stumbled across the room when I was in the middle of a panic attack one night. I took a few wrong turns and had come barreling in, knocking loose the old lock that was on the door. I remembered seeing the piano for the first time, stunned at how such a relic was abandoned. I recalled playing it that first night, it was quiet and solemn as to not get caught. That was when I realized that the entire left side of the building was abandoned so I could play as loud as I wanted, and for as long as I wanted. Soon, this became a nightly private excursion. Where I could shed the day and play as if everything okay, and the world was full again.

  
And sometimes to this day, I am still taken aback by how vacant and hollow room the room is. It reminds me of how empty my life is, and how hollow I feel behind vacant eyes.

  
But in this music hall, I take the loneliness and emptiness that this room was and represented and instead fill it with music. I drape the barren windows with curtains of notes and feelings. I hang memories on the walls like paintings, reminiscing on better times. I cover the naked floor with rugs of sadness and pain, laying them there to stay when I left. People from the far reaches of my mind come to gather, they dance and sing to fill this space with their vitality.  
But at the end of the day, the room was still empty, the people were gone, and I was alone. No amount of imagining or music could fix that. But then enter Phil, a real person. A person who came in and played with me, and together we made this old hall feel full. I found myself wishing for Phil’s companionship again. The piano didn’t have the same voice without the sweetness the strings of his violin brought.  
I stopped playing the piano, the last note rang out and settled and silence overtook the room. My mother stopped dancing, she twirled once in her fluttering ball gown and smiled at me like she used to before disappearing like a piece of paper in a flame.

“H…hello?” A voice quietly asked. A head popped out of the crack in the door.

Black hair fell softly down the forehead of a face that had two intensely blue eyes shining behind glasses. It was Phil.

“Hi.” I said lamely, not sure what to do with this human’s person. Phil smiled warmly and entered the room, black violin case in hand.

“I heard you playing, and I’m sorry I couldn’t resist.” Phil remarked shyly, fiddling with his hair as he shifted his weight around on his feet. He was looking down, as if he was scared to be in here.

“No, it’s fine. In fact I am glad you came.” I told him honestly. I was happy he was here.

“I liked the song you were playing, can I play with you?” he asked politely, holding up his case. I nodded and Phil gave an awkward smile and kneeled down, setting his case on the floor. He opened his case slowly and hesitantly pulled out his violin.  
The brown body reflected the light, and the strings shone much like the keys on the piano. Phil stroked the neck of his instrument and then looked at me, a huge smile on his face.

“You first Dan.” He giggled excitedly.

  
“I thought you were going to call me Spam there for a moment.” I remarked sarcastically.

  
Phil widened his smile and laughed, “Alright Mr. Spam.” He joked. “Was that better?”

  
Is it possible to smile with your eyes? Because it seemed Phil was doing just that. His eyes crinkled and smiled and he laughed, it was adorable.

  
“Yes, loads. Literally the best.” I joked with him.

  
I giggled with him, and together we reveled in the sound of our echoing laughter in the foreboding hall.

  
When the mirth died down, I began to play the beginning notes to the music box song. Phil smiled as he brought his violin up to his neck. He paused, bow poised above the strings as I pressed a few more notes to coax the melody out of the piano. Then Phil matched my notes and the rawness of the violin made me smile, it was so pure and pleasing to the ear. Phil stroked the strings with his bow, and he took control of the music and I followed his lead.

  
I lost track of time. The voices in my head, the memories that haunted were silent and gone. Pushed aside by the harmonies that were being played together by the piano and violin. The stars seemed to shine brightener as the tune rose, sparkling thousands of miles away in time to the blissful melody of our creation. Strings and keys pulled and pushed each other, notes and tones painted the silence with color, and me and Phil were the golden gods of the painting we sung into reality.  
Far away was our sadness, our loneliness, our pain. Far away was Death and his saccharine words. Far away were our worries, our doubts, our cares, the music we were playing did something no mortal item nor mortal place could do. It set us free.  
There were no more words to be said about what was unfolding in front me. I was in a daze. Phil was swaying and twirling around in the empty space in a strange pattern of dance only he knew. His hair was fluttering in time with his movements and long legs swept across the hall. His violin reflected the starlight making the instrument itself look like some dancing partner in the arms of Phil. Together they moved and twirled in the darkness, Phil sweeping his bow dramatically and pulling the softest notes from the strings. His fingers were quick and direct, pushing and molding the neck strings of the instrument into the shape he so desired.

  
He rolled his head back, cheek brushing the instrument, he looked down at the body of the violin. The look as serene and awestruck, as if he too was surprised himself with the voice he was pulling out of the instrument. I snapped my head down and focused on the notes, the next part was coming and I needed to concentrate.

  
The ivory keys were soft and seemed to melt to my touch, responding to my caress without much coaxing. The darkness in the room melted, I saw nothing but sounds. The air crackled with electricity, sending shivers down my spine and hands. Power and vitality coursed through my veins as if there was a live wire in my bloodstream shocking my system into overdrive.

 

~

  
To an onlooker passing by, they might observe this scene, and take note of a boy intently studying the white and black keys of an old rickety piano. His brown hair messed up from sweat and anxiety with clothes rumpled from a fitful sleep. With his brown eyes fixated on the keys, he stares at them while he pressed the keys with such intensity that it seemed the boy no longer attached to this world. He was off in a realm with just him, the dusty wooden piano, and the other stranger.

The stranger in question is swaying and almost dancing to his solemn tune. His black strands of hair float around his head in an angelic halo, almost like downy feather of a baby duck. The violin was glimmering in the starlight filtering from one of the many wall to ceiling windows on the far side of the room.

  
The onlooker might observe the barren, almost desolate feel to the room and the dry salty air that smelt like a library filled with old books. They would only see two boys were simply playing music. One playing piano while other swayed to the rhythm with his violin.

  
They were creating a sanctuary, a world in which each other and their instruments were the only things in this small little pocket of the universe. It was as if Earth no longer existed. They were alone but not lonely for the first time in either boy’s life.  
And one could almost see how the air was crackling with energy, the powerful sweet strain coming from each of the instruments created an ethereal atmosphere around the two. The stars were diamonds in the velvety blue night sky, the empty room was filled and the silence had no hold, movement was only to be drawn from the two figures.

  
And the passerby would continue to pass by, and forget almost as fast as they had observed. And that would be it. But the two figures would never forget, they wouldn’t walk away as quickly as they came. They would drag on this moment for as long as they could, clinging to the scraps of this amazing world they had painted with music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summaries are the devil. Anyway, leave kudos if you liked it. Have recommendations? Want me to write about a ship? OTP prompts? HELLO?!?! No? Leave me alone? alright well thanks for reading.
> 
>  
> 
> Bye?


	3. The Effects of Truth

Chapter 3  
Phil’s POV  
Dan and I stayed up late playing music. After a while, my fingers had begun to cramp and Dan’s hands started to slip so we quit. But instead of going back to bed like we should have, we stayed up and talked. We laughed and told jokes with our back against one of the giant floor to ceiling windows, heads and hands resting. We played with our shadows, talked about school and about the music. We also discussed our past.  
“Where did you learn to play?” Dan inquired while I made hand puppets in the fading darkness. Dawn was coming soon, so in the growing sunlight my dog shadow wasn’t as good as it could have been. I turned to Dan, his head was resting against the glass panel and his hands were resting on his outstretched legs.   
“It’s nothing to fancy.” I said quietly. “My father was a cellist, someone who played the cello, not some weird scientist.” I added for clarification. Dan smirked as I continued. “He taught me cello, and I do love that instrument, but my mother was a violinist and that’s where my true love lay. She gave me this violin at age 3, and it became my closest companion.” I drew imaginary circles on the floor, recalling all the hours my mother gave to me, teaching me how to draw the voice out of the violin.  
I recalled her telling me, “The violin is your instrument, but it is not your slave. Do not demand its voice, ask for it. It is an instrument, a living entity onto itself, do not abuse it and don’t try and ‘play’ it. Instead be polite and careful and it will sing” She would then always stroke the violin that I was holding in my chubby fists. I remembered her gently prying my clutching fingers from the neck of the violin, and instead showed me how to hold it gently and firmly by the body or the scroll (the very top of the instrument after the tuning pegs).  
I snapped back to the conversation with Dan. “Yeah, then she fell ill. That is when I found out that my mother gave me her violin, and sacrificed her career in music to teach me. My father was a traveling cellist, and money was tight. Instead of playing at pubs or local bars, she would teach me. Instead of buying me a cheap violin, she gave me hers. When she died, my father shipped me here, still traveling and had no time for a 12 year old. All I have left of my mother and my father is a violin and cello that he gave me as a 5 year old for Christmas, other than that I am alone.” I sighed, it was hard but I was okay. At least I still had music right?   
“Nobody here knows I play violin, other than a few friends. It’s just, music is something I don’t want to do as a job or a club y’know?” Dan nodded as I said these words. “I want to play because I want to, not because I have to, so I always go play in an abandoned classroom during the day. I taught myself most music theory and songs” I said proudly, of course YouTube and Google had helped but that was beside the point. “My mother taught me all she knew, and now I have to say I am almost as good as she once was.” My eyes started to water (not crying, goodness I am not THAT big a baby).  
“I bet she would be proud of you. You’re really good.” Dan muttered softly to the floor. I looked at him in shock.  
“Thanks Dan. That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me.” I studdered, still in complete shock.  
“So wait, you have been here, for 5 years?” Dan quickly asked to change the subject.  
I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my blue cotton shirt. “Yeah. This is the first time I have seen this music place though.” I commented, looking around the huge vacant hall.   
Dan nodded, returning his gaze to his resting hands. “Wow that must suck.” He observed, then he threw his head over his shoulder and looked at me. Surprised at his sudden flurry of movement, I looked back at him, his chocolate brown eyes bearing into mine.  
“Wait you said you play cello?” He asked excitedly.   
“Yeah” I said cautiously  
“You should bring it sometime, it would be so much fun to do duets with that cello.” He sighed, then hurriedly added, “I mean your violin playing wonderful and I love it to it’s just I think it would be so much more,-”  
I cut him off with a smile before he could get anymore worked up, “Sure. Violin is what I am best at, and my cello skills are a little rusty, but I’d love it to.”   
Dan visibly relaxed, and sighed. He leaned his head back onto the glass, and there we sat in silence for a while. It was a comfortable silence and neither one of use really wanted to break it.  
~   
Morning came too soon. I rolled over in my bed, hitting my right hand all over my night trying to silence the alarm. I missed and ended up falling out of bed.  
“Wah” I mewed as I fell onto the unforgiving floor. My head nearly hit the night stand and my legs were scrambled in my duvet. Now wide awake, I searched for the alarm clock that was blaring out a fire siren sound. Stupid phone had fallen onto the floor, and I mashed it a bunch of times with my hands hoping to turn it off. It finally did, and I ended up just laying on my back, staring up at the ceiling.  
“Ugh.” I moaned as I finally sat up. Rubbing my eyes blearily, the world was fuzzy and out of focus. I grabbed my glasses and fixed them on my face. The world came into clarity and I observe dust particles drifting in the early morning sunlight that’s streaming in through the open blinds. The sunlight is making my room a horrible porridge yellow color, and the heat makes my room smell musty and stale. I get up and put my duvet back on my bed, and am amazed at how many sock fall out of the sheets. So that’s where they went.  
Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I head to the dorm bathrooms to get ready for classes.  
~  
“I hear porridge facials are good for the skin when you go to space.” PJ states matter-of-factly as I almost fall face first into my grey goopy breakfast. It didn’t look or smell like porridge, and wiggled to much like Jell-O. Simply, it was disgusting and I was tired. My head lolled dangerously close to the bowl again as my eyes drifted shut. My head was resting on my hand as I wait for breakfast to be over. My black hair falling into my eyes, it made me feel all mysterious as if I was some warrior ninja resting after a long night.  
The cafeteria was loud as hundreds of male students clamored and teased over their morning meal. They seemed oblivious of the hollow atmosphere and general air of discontent that radiated off the thick grey bricks that composed the walls. The windows were small allowing for little natural light, the hum of the electric lights above added to the din of children, cleverly masking the silence that was underneath. The chestnut wood flooring reflected the steel serving places and railing that many people were huddled around. Red trays were stacked and waiting to be used. The lunch room ladies in their clean white aprons looked irritated as they served the most fascinating and most disgusting food (if you could call it that) known to man. The green tables were lined in rows of four, allowing about thirty kids to all for each row. The sits were hard and uncomfortable, and I found myself becoming restless from the hardness of the seat. I glanced at the trashcans and dollies for the dirty trays that lined the walls, uninterested at the rudimentary and ordinary objects. I shifted my weight around, uncomfortable and stifled in the hot sweaty smelly room. The hot stench of the food mixed with the humid, natural musk of the other students made it hard to breath without gagging. I was used to the overwhelming prison feel of the school, but today it was suffocating for some odd reason.  
PJ was yammering again about the effect of porridge in space and on alien skin and Chris was nodding, quipping sarcastic and sexual comments where he could. The two were pretty much inseparable, it was amusing to watch.  
“The alien tiny planets rub the porridge over their face to exfoliate any space juices or star residue.” PJ explained. “Although they also like using white cream in the porridge to make it more delicious and -“  
“THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!” Chris cut in loudly. PJ smacked his arm and laughed, Chris crossed his eyes and said some lewd comment. I wasn’t paying attention though, I was too busy watching a tall lanky boy with soft brown hair getting oatmeal from the impatient lunch lady. This was the first time I saw Dan outside the music hall, and needless to say he didn’t look to good. His eyes were sunken and his skin was pale, dark bags were prominent under his eyes and his cheekbones were pronounced and cheeks hollow. His black blazer and white shirt hung on his skinny frame like potato sacks and were rumpled and disheveled. His trousers were a size to small and his belt looked like it would make breathing painful.   
He was a mess, and as he eyed the grey odorless goop on his tray I could tell he didn’t want to be here. His eyes were shifting, his hair was sticking out everywhere (like a hedgehog hit by a train), his hands were twitching and tapping on the sides of the red plastic tray that held his breakfast. His dark brown eyes were hollow and void of expression, not the same eyes I had come to know in the music hall.  
“Earth to Phil! PJ the tiny planet explorer here asking for permission to contact?” PJ yelled, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I shook my head and looked at PJ. His intense green eyes searched my face questioningly. His brown eyebrow crooked up, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded. PJ ruffled his curly light russet hair as he looked away. He picked at his black blazer with the school emblem on it. PJ, ever the creationist, had blasted color to the inside of the coat, making him look like a rainbow and a chameleon came together in some violent explosion. His shirt was not the customary white that the school required, but rather an intense light pink. It looked good on him, and was his way of rebelling against the ‘dress code made for the monsters of the corporate world’, he told us.   
“Permission granted” I said and I looked immediately back at Dan. PJ smiled, oblivious to my lack of attention, and began to talk as he poked the curious substance on his tray, but I soon tuned him out.   
Chris saw me look away from PJ and turned around. Spotting who I was looking at Chris remarked with a saucy smirk, “Looks like someone found a boyfriend!” He turned to me and made a face, dropping his chin and raising his bushy dark coffee brown eyebrows. His eyes widened and he smiled. I laughed as I felt heat come to my cheeks,   
“No. Just a friend.” I said with a sigh. That’s what Dan was right? Right?!?  
Chris didn’t take the bait. He laughed, and poked PJ who was off in his little world of tiny planets and penguins that destroyed giant praying mantises. PJ was reawakened to reality and Chris filled him in on what he missed.  
“Phil is totally staring at that brown haired boy” Chris pointed to Dan and PJ saw him. PJ immediately looked back at me and winked, “with little hearts for eyes. It’s so adorable, I think our little Phillion has found a companion, he’s just too embarrassed to tell us” Chris prattled on, looking at me. (Phillion was a nickname of mine, my name with the name of my favorite majestic animal the lion.)  
PJ brought his hands to his face and made a kissy face, “Awww did someone find their space princess?”  
I shook my head in embarrassment. When it came to Peej, anything and everything was about space. “No, he’s just a friend.” I said with a shrug, but the blossoming redness and heat on my cheeks made PJ and Chris laugh out loud.   
“Aw leave me alone, if there was a space princess or space penguin I would let you know.” I teased.  
They nodded, not really satisfied with my answer, but they laid off and for that I was grateful. They both were eccentric and odd, but always there and loyal to a fault. Wouldn’t have asked for better friends.  
PJ and Chris started to argue about the effects of monster slime as I wandered my gaze trying to find Dan. I wondered if he would be up for sitting with me and my friends, we were the outcasts and a little weird but we had fun. I bet he wouldn’t, he probably was very popular seeing as how attractive (in a PLATONIC way of course) and amazing he was. He was kind and nice, and had a wicked sense of humor. I scanned the hall more intently this time, and finally found him. The sight that met my eyes made me gasp out loud. He was all alone in the corner of the cafeteria, poking the gelatinous wet grey mess on his tray with a spoon. His eyes were downcast and his hand not holding the spoon was twitching and tapping on the sad red tray. He looked tiny small, sad and trapped. There were students around him that were laughing and joking, not paying him a single thought. When they suddenly rammed into him by accident, causing the tray to fly off the table and clatter to the floor.   
They didn’t even notice, and continued their mirth as if it didn’t happen. He leaned down and picked up the tray, careful not to get the goo on his hands. His head was bowed, submissive and haunting. I was frozen in place as I watched him pick up the utensils and bowl. He set them down on the dolley next to the door and left.  
Without realizing it, I was running out the door that Dan had just closed behind him. I saw the tail of his shirt disappear around a corner and I ran, desperate to catch him. I was still stunned at the scene I had just witnessed, of him being completely ignored and overlooked. I turned the corner, and saw Dan take a right up ahead.   
“Dan” I called as I ran. My lungs shrinking as I ran. The hallways were a blur of grey brick, grey carpet and an ensemble of school colors (red and green, I know how Christmas-y). My vision narrowed as I focused on catching up to him. How fast was this bugger and his long legs?  
I turned the corner and realized where I was headed.  
The abandoned wing of school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay Okay I know I know, the plot isn't there. Nothing really happens, but this is important! I needed to solidify Dan's character and introduce PJ and Chris (hold up, imma brag for a moment so ignore this. I AM SO PROUD OF THOSE CHARACTERS. I feel like I nailed them. Sorry I am narcissistic). Any way, I PROMISE THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL HAVE MORE PLOT (and maybe the relationship will get better). And Dan is not going to be some whiny depression person, I promise he will gain some personality and be more like the Dan Howell we know and love.
> 
> Please leave a kudos, much thanks!!!
> 
> Bye


	4. Music Notes and Puns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil runs into Dan (literally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KUDOS SAVE LIVES
> 
> AND COMMENTS MAKE MY LIFE
> 
> DO THE THING  
> (I suck at summaries)

CHAPTER 4

“Dan where in God’s name-” I ran down the hall calling his name loudly as I neared the music hall. Where was Dan? He couldn’t have gone far!  
I turned a quick corner and ran into a wall of soft muscle and cool blazer.  
“Wha-” I tried to shout, but it was muffled by of the soft silky fabric. My face was shoved onto the shoulder of the wall I had run into. Arms were encircled around my torso to keep me from falling forward and the person I ran into falling back. We ended up swaying there for a moment, both of us trying to regain our balance and our wits.   
“Uh- Hi Phil.” A voice said hesitantly from somewhere above me. I tried to not notice how well me and Dan fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle. It was warm in his arms, and my head fit nicely on his shoulder. I felt my cheeks heat up, I tried to forget the observation I just made.  
“Uh hi Dan sorry” I peeled myself away from his embrace reluctantly. ‘I-uh was looking for you.” I said quietly as I took a step back.  
“Oh really?” Dan said flirtatiously, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I cracked a smile through my embarrassment.  
“No I just saw what happened in the cafeteria and got worried. Thought maybe you went to the music hall to de-stress or something.” I explained.  
Dan’s face fell at the mention of the cafeteria, his eyes falling down staring down at the carpeted floor. “Yea,” He looked back up at me, “I decided I needed to stop by the bathroom to clean up, but I actually was heading there. You wanna join?” He cocked his head to the side and smiled up at me. I realized now that I was about an inch taller than him, but it was interesting how I fit into the crook of his neck.  
I felt myself heat up again at the thought. Dan chuckled, “You’re bright red like a tomato, is it something I said?”   
“No! No? No.” I repeated trying to cover up my embarrassment, but failing miserably.   
Dan laughed and grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the abandoned hall. I laughed nervously and followed him.  
“Dan I don’t have my violin or cello, and we have class in-” I whined  
Dan cut me off, “Stop your whining, we will be okay. Plus, I have an idea, no need for your instruments.”   
Confused and a little intrigued I continued with him, shuffling my feet along and whining along the way. But Dan continued dragging me by my arm, and I looked down at the hand that was grasping my forearm. The fingers were long and thin, and their grip was strong on my arm.   
Dan threw open the old oak door, it gave a resounding creak at the harsh sudden treatment. He hauled me over to the piano and sat down. I was still standing awkwardly to the side of the dusty old bench. The stench of old books and musty wood was so strong here I could almost taste it. Sunlight was filtering through grubby glass windows with dust floating and dancing in the sunbeams. It was bright and musty in the old room, very different from the hollow and sad room the night before. This room was bright and happy, humid and full of life and movement.   
Dan let go of my arm and patted the bench beside him.  
“Sit down Phil.” Dan said smiling up at me. His grin was wide and his eyes were crinkled, his hair was sticking up every which way, and dust swirled around him like fairy dust. The sun showed the dips and hollows of his face, the bags under his eyes, the pale skin that showed seemed to be transparent and showing all the veins and blood vessels. He looked sick, but his skin was glowing and it seemed that color was returning to his eyes and cheeks. It made me happy to see him like this, all full of life. This Dan was different from the Dan in the cafeteria, much like how this sunlight music hall was different than the nighttime music hall.   
I sat down and a poof of dust rose up in the air and started to swirl around us.   
“Alright set your hands like this on these keys.” He gestured to a couple keys and set his hands down on the piano. I mimicked him, confused at what was going on.  
“Dan, what are we doing?” I asked, setting my hands down on the old ivory keys and admiring how soft they were to the touch. They were old and worn, but soft to the touch. They gleamed and I noticed how different mine and Dan’s hands were. While his were lean and long, mine were thicker and calloused.  
“I’m teaching you how to play piano.” Dan confessed, looking down at the keys. “I was thinking I could show you how to play… I thought you might enjoy it.” He said quietly.   
I laughed and Dan looked back at me shocked. “Oh Danny boy, I’m glad you wanted to teach me, for a second I thought you were going to kill me or something with your mystery and sinister looks.”   
Dan laughed with me, “Sinister looks? I don’t do the sinister looks!” He insisted  
“You do, with your silly smirk and gleam in your eyes.” I laughed heartily.  
Dan lifted his hands and shoved me softly, his eyes lit up and his smiled widened. “Oh my gleam huh?” He teased.  
We laughed together for a moment, Dan tried to make a sinister face. He tucked his chin and wiggled his eyebrows and tried to give a menacing glare and smile. It made me laugh harder, doubling over as the laughs deepened.   
“Alright Phil, let’s get back to what we were doing shall we?” He giggled to me, a smirk playing on his face.   
“Alright fine, but one more sinister look and I’m out.” I raised my eyebrow at him.  
Dan nodded, “No more sinister looks.” He promised with a quirky smile.  
We put our hands back in position, and Dan showed me the keys. He taught me the notes, and in my head I transcribed them to my violin to help make sense of the jumble of sounds. Soon I was playing twinkle twinkle little star with ease, and was astonished at how fast I was learning the notes. The piano was a lot like my violin, but different in so many ways. Each key played on note, and depending on how hard or soft you pressed the keys, it would determine how loud or how soft. With every caress, every pressure, every turn and roll of a finger determined the sound. The piano could be soft and delicate, much like the touch of an infant, or it could be harsh and choppy like waves on a windy day at sea, it all depended on you and your control. And through it all, Dan was encouraging while he helped me, saying how good I was doing and how well I knew my notes.   
“Alright let’s try something a bit trickier, but I think you will do okay.” He said after the millionth rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I was starting to get sick of the tune, and I knew Dan was to.  
I nodded and he started a simple, but recognizable tune.  
“Is that Fur Elise?” I asked excitedly. That was one of my favorite songs I ever learned on the violin, and I knew the melody by heart.   
“Yeah, it is.” Dan said excitedly, and continued to teach me the notes.  
“Then you press this one here and repeat- Phil this one not this one” He guided me to the correct ones, but I kept tripping up, I couldn’t keep my fingers straight. My fingers were not built for this level of dexterity and memorization.  
“Dan I’m not getting it!” I yelled, irritated at my lack of dexterity. I pulled my hands back so I couldn’t hit the piano in frustration. Dan mad it look so easy, and I couldn’t even begin to start the tune! How is it I could play the violin with such ease and grace, but I turned into a bumbling bimbo trying to press a few keys?! The more I thought the more angrier I got.  
Dan looked at me closely, and adjusted his hair“Alright, here let me help. No need to get pissed off.” Dan chuckled lightly.  
I looked at him, feeling like a dejected child whose teacher was fed up with as he stood up. He got behind me and reached down and pulled the bench from the piano, startling me at how my legs lengthened and stretched out. Then, to my great surprise he sat behind me and put each of his incredibly long legs on either side of my own. He set his hands under my own hands and started to play Fur Elise, pressing them softly and carefully as I felt him sway behind me. My head came just under his eyes and I felt his nose press into the back of my skull. His breath was warm and soft and even, I could feel every inhale and exhale, not just in his nose but in his chest as well. My back was pressed up against him, and I again tried not to notice how well my back fit into his torso. He hummed slowly as he moved his head to my shoulder, resting his chin there quietly. It didn’t hurt, but his soft downy hair made my ear itch.   
The melody swelled and Dan’s hands started move faster. I felt the muscles underneath the pale skin, moving and shifting as ivory keys strummed out the smooth tune of Beethoven’s famous song. The violin was my instrument, it was beautiful and captivating and everything about my past and future was about my violin. I never thought about the piano, but now...  
The piano was unique in its own way. It called to me, showing me the different world of music that was so strange and foreign. The feeling of creating music by pressing keys instead of stroking strings, all was new and exciting. And adventure, my mother would’ve called it. Then there was Dan, leaning into me. Dan was warm, a comforting little sanctuary amidst the cold cruel reality that was outside this sunny music room and strong arms that encircled me. In his arms, it seemed this room was different. The hall seemed to relieve the burden of guilt and sadness that weighed me down every day, and his arms helped bear the burden that was strapped to my back. Like a lone drifting boat, I felt like I was finallyin a little harbor, a safe house after a terrible storm. Being in here with Dan I felt safe. Safer than I have ever felt before.  
The song continued, Dan started to sway and hum along. I melted and found myself relaxing into his chest, my hands not pressing the keys anymore, just resting on top of Dan’s as he moved. I leaned into his embrace, his warmth, his scent. He smelt of something uniquely Dan, like the smell before it rained mixed with…was that lavender? I sighed, and felt my head lean back to rest on Dan’s shoulder.   
He chuckled and continued to play as I felt my limbs grow heavy. I looked up at the vaulted ceiling covered with dark brown wooden plaques, admiring the simplicity and clean cut design that almost matched the melody of Fur Elise that was playing.  
I could get used to this, I realized. I could get used to Dan, his smell and warmth that his arms entailed, the safety and perfect fit his body was to mine. There was something so right about this moment, like the universe allowed the final jigsaw puzzle pieces to come together at last. I rolled my head to the side and found myself nose to nose with Dan, who was looking at me intently. I noted the color in his checks, a splash of crimson on his otherwise white complexion. His dark eyes were smiling, if it was even possible. The dark bags under his eyes seemed to disappear and Dan looked normal, happy and healthy. He looked like my Dan.  
Dan leaned in, and I panicked, I wasn’t prepared for this. I wasn’t prepared for the intense amount of feelings I felt at that moment when Dan leaned in. I think he wanted to kiss me, but I guess I will never know.  
“Uh, was that the school bell?” I asked quickly, standing up abruptly. “Yeah that was the school bell,” (Why did I say that?! Our school didn’t even have a bell!) I backed out as quickly as I could, watching as Dan frowned and knit his eyebrows. He seemed sad, like a lost little puppy. His cheeks became white again and lost color, the dark bags returned to the once smiling eyes. I felt guilty, I had caused him to look like that and returned to the hollow Dan that I saw in the cafeteria.   
I wouldn’t admit to myself, but I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to have him hold me, and I in turn wanted to hold him close. I wanted to be near him, to show him the universe in our little world we had built out of the violin strings and piano keys. I wanted to be there for him, never let him fall or be alone again. But I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t ready for the onslaught of love and devotion that happened all at once for Dan.   
My mind immediately flashed back to when my mother was alive.  
“Mommy what’s a soulmate?” I asked one night as she was tucking me into bed. I rubbed my eyes with my chubby fist that was callused from a long day of practice on the violin. The violin that had been my partner in crime for the day was in the corner, propped up on the stand. The lamp on my bedside table cast a bright and cheerful light over the sleek body of the instrument.   
Mother sat down at the edge of the bed and tucked in the stray hairs on the top of my head. Her hair was in a messy brown bun on top of her head, her thick black glasses were a bit askew and her eyes looked at me with such blue intensity that I couldn’t help but stare.  
“Why do you ask my little lion?” She sang to me. My mother didn’t speak, not in the way my teachers at school did or my father when he came home for short visits. My mother always had a singing quality to her voice, something so sweet and pure and other worldly. I would give anything to hear just a few words of that singing voice now, I missed it.   
“Cause Mama, I want a soulmate.” I snuggled deeper into my dark blue comforter that had bits of clouds and lions dancing on the painted sheet.   
She smiled softly, looking me right in the eyes. That was another trait my mother had that no one else did, she didn’t treat me like an incompetent child. She looked me in the eyes and talked to me knowing how smart I was. I never felt dumb when I was with her, she made sure that even if I did something wrong or dumb, it wasn’t a failure but a lesson. A lesson to teach me and help me become a better person. I always felt smart, and I never doubted my worth when I was with her.  
“Oh! Our little lion wants to start a pride already eh?” She said tickling my sides. I giggled and held her hands. She chuckled and stopped, laying her hands on my stomach. I traced the skin wrinkles and callouses of her hands. I smelt her perfume which was like roses and a bit like freshly mown lawn. It was my mother’s scent, just as much unique to her as her violin playing and sing song voice. (To this day, I can’t smell a rose or a mown lawn without thinking of her. I may have limited memories of her, but her smell is something that I always carry around with me.)  
“Well little lion, a soulmate is what is sounds like. Where your soul and another’s soul are so in tune with each other that they beat as one.” She put her hand on my heart as she whispered softly, looking me in the eyes with a faraway look, looking through me rather than at me.  
“Your soul is your heart, and my little Phil has the heart of a lion.” She murmured to me.  
“A Lion!?” I gasped, in total awe that I might be like a lion in some way.  
“Yes a lion!” She agreed, plucking my hand and setting it on her chest. I felt a steady thrum of her heart beating inside it’s fleshy cage.  
“Your heart is your soul, and when you find someone that makes your heart beat only for them, that makes living life worth it, then that will be your soulmate.” I listened intently as she told me, feeling her heart pump beneath my hand.   
I looked into her eyes, and she looked back. “My little lion, one day you will find someone worthy of your noble heart Phillip, and when you do, make sure they don’t get away.” She brushed her fingers down my face, the other hand still clutching my hand to her chest.   
That moment was forever burned in my memory. Soft yellow light emitting from my short bedside lamp, coloring my mother’s alabaster skin a soft white. Her hair floated around her face like a brown halo, her blue eyes were watery from un-spilt tears. Her hardened hand, callused and rough from work, clutching my soft chubby five year old hands that were beginning to become worn from practice to her heart. The other hand stroking my round face, caressing my smooth skin much like how I would caress my violin when she was gone. The thick humid warmth of the room and the light pattering of rain against the window started to lull me to sleep.   
“Have you found your soulmate yet Mama?” I asked sleepily, my eyes were drooping as sleep whispered in my ear and darkness threated to take me to the dream world.  
“Yes my little Phil, I have found my soulmate. But sometimes, soulmates fade and there’s nothing you can do. You have to be strong and brave my little lion. Oh my little warrior Phil, I hope that you-” I didn’t catch the last of the sentence, I had fallen asleep, busy dreaming about a brave lion warrior fighting to find his soulmate. Wading through people who tried to steal and break his lion heart, and he almost lost. Luckily, the brave Lion warrior found a fearsome bear who saved him and helped keep away the snatchers.   
I snapped back to the present. Dan was looking at me with a look of shame and guilt written all over his face. I grasped at my heart, feeling it beat erratically and hard in my chest. “I have to go take notes, not like music notes, but scientifically accurate notes.” Oh god I sounded pathetic and stupid. I buried my face in the sleeve of my black blazer, trying to hide the intense red my face was probably turning.  
“I’m so sorry Dan, I will see you in class!” I wasn’t sure if he heard that sentence, I was out and running down the hall as fast as these dumb awkward long legs of mine could carry me. I ran down the hall, trying to calm my racing heart, which was dumb considering I was running down the bloody halls of the school. After I found my way to the boy’s bathroom, I leaned against the door and went in and locked myself in the toilet.  
I stood over the porcelain bowl trying not to pass out or throw up. Or both. Both was looking like a much more likely situation actually. I placed my hands on the back of the toilet, and just stood there catching my breath. My heart was pounding, sweat coming from my palms and forehead, I was a wreck. I didn’t know what to do, I had found my soulmate. The one my mother had told me about so many years ago. I felt my eyes tear up. I missed her. I missed her song she was always singing, the thrums of her fingers on my violin to show my correct tunes and notes, her smell that always lingered after she left, the light brown hair that would bounce when she let it down. I missed her strong caring arms, always lifting me and carrying me or consoling me. I missed her figure in the kitchen cooking me up some day old pizza, she was never a good cook and would always end up burning something.  
I laughed through the tears at the memory of her beating a stove fire with a book of notes and chords for the violin that she was reading. The book almost caught on fire along with the whole kitchen, if it wasn’t for the fact that I ran in with the fire extinguisher and completely doused my mother. I remembered airing out the kitchen for days because it stunk of smoke and the acrid smell of the fire extinguisher. She laughed through the smoke, saying how I was her lion in shining armor, defending her against herself.  
Lion in shining armor, and yet where was I when she died? Where was I when she needed me most?  
I shook my head, no need to get sad and guilty over the past. That was behind me, and if I was going to live up to my mother’s memory I needed to keep moving forward. I would continue to be her Lion, her little Lion warrior.   
I unlocked the door of the restroom and walked out. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and stopped for a moment. I put my hands on the sink, and leaned into my reflection. I took note of myself. Black hair disheveled and wispy, black bushy eyebrows, thick black glasses my mother used to wear that hid intense blue eyes that were red and puffy from crying. My face was pink, which was more color that my normally pale complexion. Honestly, I could make a vampire look tan (actually, I corrected myself, make Dan look tan.)  
Straggles of beard were growing in, but nothing too dark or serious. Skinny tall lanky frame greeted my eyes when I stood up. Blazer and white shirt hung at awkward angles as it tried to cling to my skin. I walked out of the restroom quickly, not enjoying the ghost of my mother I saw in myself every time I looked at my reflection. I didn’t want to dwell on that too much.   
I trudged through the gray hall, wading through hundreds of male students running to get to class. I couldn’t see the signature wild afro of light brown hair of PJ, or hear the signature strings of cuss words mixed with lewd comments from Chris. Chris was shorter than me and PJ by about 5 solid inches so I wasn’t planning on seeing the top of his mousy brown mop.   
I tried to hurry down the crowded hallway, but failed miserably. I ended up inching my way towards my first class, which I had with both PJ and Chris. We liked to sit in the very back and goof off. Pay attention to teacher? Nah, never. We were too busy making fart jokes and mimicking the teacher for that to happen.   
I found my classroom and ducked in from the constant stream of students. The classroom was buzzing with whispering and giggling as I made my way to the farthest back corner. PJ and Chris were sat near the middle, leaving me to sit almost at the edge of the table.   
“Hey there lover boy, saw you chasing your boyfriend this morning.” Chris leered at me as I sat down heavily in my hard oak chair. The plastic white table made a resounding thunk as folded my arms and slammed them down on the table.   
“Jeez, angry morning sex much?” Chris snickered and poked me in the ribs. I winced, trying not to giggle seeing as I was extremely ticklish. Peej put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his intertwined hands.  
“Awe how adorable, someone has found his goopy love alien here on earth.” PJ crooned.  
“Nah, sorry to disappoint but I ended up losing him in this godforsaken maze of a school!” I assured them as I put my chin on my crossed arms.  
“The hicky on your neck says otherwise.” Chris smirked at me.  
I panicked. Dan didn’t touch my neck, how could there be a hicky?!  
“Wait where?!” I said feeling my neck for the little booger.  
Chris cracked up and leaned back in his chair.  
“He’s just kidding, there’s no hicky” A voice softly said behind me. I whipped around, and lo and behold was Dan.  
“Uh-Hi.” I said blankly, the wheels in my mind turning trying to make sense of what happened.  
“Can I sit here?” He asked, looking down in shame. Why was Dan ashamed?   
“Yeah sure!” I scooted over to make room and Dan sat down and set his bag on the table.  
“Oh this is the famous Dan you have been smitten with!” Chris said mockingly. He leaned over me and poked Dan’s shoulder, smiling the whole time. Dan looked at him questioningly, his brow furrowed and head cocked slightly.  
“Oh don’t mind this slimy monster,” PJ said, tugging Chris’s blazer down to force the boy to sit down in his seat. “He means well, but his manners are a little rusty from serval years inside a burning star.”   
“I am not slimy!” Chris whined and the two began to argue (for the second time that I knew of this morning) about the qualities of monster slime and stardust.  
I turned around in my chair to face my friends that were now in a heated debate. “That one is Chris, he’s a little provocative but he makes class interesting” I told Dan, gesturing to Chris who was sticking his tongue out at PJ. I looked back at Dan as he smiled and laughed.   
“I can tell.” Dan chuckled and I smiled at him, there was light back in his eyes.  
I turned my attention to the bickering boys. “That one there is PJ, tiny planet explorer extraordinaire.” I air quoted, PJ was now poking Chris in his cheeks and talking about mucus.  
“He’s…very colorful” Dan stated, eyeing the colorful blazer and purple chalk in my friends hair. (He must have snuck into the art studio to finish his secret project while I was out, he always seems to be disappearing suddenly then reappearing with some kind of paint, chalk, or pen all over him. That boy was so messy when it came to color, and anything to be honest.)  
“Yeah, he’s obsessed with space and monsters. A bit odd, but super creative and imaginative. He also is quite mischievous so make sure you don’t follow him too closely or you will end up in the principal’s office pretty quick.” I joked. Dan smiled and nodded. PJ actually got me in trouble my first day. I got detention for a week after painting eyes on the teachers car’s after me, PJ and Chris watched the Pixar movie ‘Cars’. I laughed quietly to myself, remembering the fun we had making jokes and guessing whose car was whose. I looked at Dan and we made direct eye contact.   
He abruptly broke eye contact as he turned a glorious shade of red and faced the front of the room.  
A burden of guilt settled in my gut as the teacher walked in and started spouting off instructions. This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KUDOS SAVE LIVES
> 
> AND COMMENTS MAKE MY LIFE
> 
> DO THE THING  
> (I suck at summaries)


	5. The Effect of Expression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KUDOS SAVE LIVES

Alright people, this fan fiction is a bit different!  
Here’s how it goes, THIS ADDS NOTHING TO THE PLOT! This is just one night Dan and Phil play, so if you want to skip this, YOU WILL NOT MISS ANYTHING!  
Alright those of you who still want to stick around, follow these steps:  
1.) Find a comfy place to read this fiction (snacks and water might be needed)  
2.) Get headphones that you can listen with BOTH ears  
3.) Have WIFI (or data) and YouTube.  
Alright you good? Okay strap yourself in cause IT’S GONNA BE ONE HECK OF A RIDE  
When you start reading this fic, click this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwBP07-DUN8 (if it isn’t going, copy and paste.) Start reading as soon as the music starts to play. If the song finishes before you, repeat the song. Make sure to pause it or don’t read any further until the song is over when you reach the ~ this will mark you to stop the music or let it end naturally! 

ATTENTION ALL READERS: KUDOS SAVE LIVES!  
Thank you that is all.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwBP07-DUN8

Alright people, this fan fiction is a bit different!  
Here’s how it goes, THIS ADDS NOTHING TO THE PLOT! This is just one night Dan and Phil play, so if you want to skip this, YOU WILL NOT MISS ANYTHING!  
Alright those of you who still want to stick around, follow these steps:  
1.) Find a comfy place to read this fiction (snacks and water might be needed)  
2.) Get headphones that you can listen with BOTH ears   
3.) Have WIFI (or data) and YouTube.   
Alright you good? Okay strap yourself in cause IT’S GONNA BE ONE HECK OF A RIDE  
When you start reading this fic, click this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwBP07-DUN8 (if it isn’t going, copy and paste.) Start reading as soon as the music starts to play. If the song finishes before you, repeat the song. Make sure to pause it or don’t read any further until the song is over when you reach the ~ this will mark you to stop the music or let it end naturally! 

ATTENTION ALL READERS: KUDOS SAVE LIVES!   
Thank you that is all.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwBP07-DUN8

I rolled my hands, up and down the ivory keys they went. Pressing and caressing the piano softly but with great purpose. I played slowly and carefully, to ruin even one note would destroy the careful song I had created and release the atmosphere I had captured and was building. I could see Phil look at me from the corner of my vision as he lifted his bow string, ready to pounce. And pounce he did, he slid his bow over the strings. Coaxing deep and melodic notes that rang in tune to my rolls and chords. We worked as one, him playing the melody on his violin and me rolling and dipping on the piano. Pushing and pulling, lifting and falling, singing and dancing, me and Phil were the only two people in the entire universe.

The instruments pirouetted together, intertwining their sounds and clasping their melody’s. Together they built a sanctuary, a home, a place of refuge from the bitter reality. The music hall swelled as music filled the barren room. Me and Phil were physically far apart, him at the end of the piano swaying and moving to the music and me sat at the piano bench caressing the soft ivory keys. We may have been far apart, and yet we were never closer. With the strain and symphony that coursed out our instruments, a little piece of our walls crumpled, with a note our defenses shatter, we are left vulnerable and weak to the other. And yet, neither of us exploit the open rawness of each other. We accept it, and patch up the wounds with the sounds our dear friends made. The instruments were not tools, weapons, or clumsy items made of wood. They were friends, companions, and shields. Always there for us when we needed them most, always there to catch us and help lift us up. They were there to help build a place of solitude and serenity that could never be physically crafted at the hands of mankind. The piano persuaded skeletons out of the closet, only to banish them from our minds and souls. The violin bow swept the room without restraint, dusting away the misuse and abandonment me and Phil both felt in our hearts. The strings of the violin broke the invisible chains that bound us to earth. We were free. Free from gravity, free from responsibilities or cares, my and Phil had found our own little galaxy within this music. And we flew. 

The stars shone brightly, little gems thrust haphazardly in the sky. The grimy glass windows distorted the moon’s light, making it patches of dark and light over the white and black piano keys and the violin’s body. The song mimicked the collage of colors that the moon emitted, there were happy tunes, sad notes, determined chords and gentle rolls. I brushed the pearly white keys, I nuzzled the inky black keys that glittered like polished stones in the coming light. The stars shot and danced in the rich dark blue sky, stepping and shuffling to the rhythm of the melody that commanded them. There was no doubt, no inkling of hesitation that me and Phil commanded the stars. We were free from all bonds and limits, we controlled this pocket of the universe with only the piano and the violin by our sides. And the stars danced eagerly to our song, swirling millions of miles away enthusiastically. I knew in my heart that this was going to be me and Phil’s song, it was going to be our little treasure that we would often reflect on and smile at the memory. I looked up at Phil, dark hair swirling around his face, glasses reflecting the moonbeams, closed eyes and smirking lips. I knew that in this moment, Phil was mine. And I was his. We were one person, not two. Together, we could command the stars, banish depression and destroy the loneliness we both felt. We could fly free of our earthy burdens. Tonight, Phil was my muse, my teacher, my other half. He was mine. 

I smiled at the thought of Phil being mine, and I wanted to share my memories with him. Even if he couldn’t see them, opening up to him like this was the most intimate thing I thought I ever could do. So I reached deeply into my mind, waiting for my memories to come. Soon the music hall filled with people from the farthest reaches of my mind, I had called and played them into this lonely and desolate music hall. My mother leaned against the piano, reaching out her hand to stroke my hair softly, I could almost smell her sweet perfume of lavender and old worn library books. She patted my head, and started to dance along the hall, becoming a kind of dancer for Phil as she swirled about him, blue dress all aflutter. The people that I loved, the people that I knew, started to group together and waltz around me and Phil. The ghostly memories lit up as the music swelled, igniting the music hall with passion and desire. 

The melody reached climax and me and Phil were playing and reaching deep within ourselves to pull out the last bit of song and emotions left inside our bodies and souls. We focused hard, straining to play the perfect notes that would complement the others phenomenal playing. The stars moved faster, the moon shone more brightly and the ghosts from the past swirled a myriad of colors. But nothing compared to my mother and Phil. She swirled like a leaf in the wind around him, dress of blue licking his dark jeans like a flame. He would sweep her arm around him, turning and kicking as she danced to his violin. Phil was now concentrated on his task, eyebrows knit together and a small frown on his face. His hair stuck up oddly from the sweat, and I could see droplets on his forehead and cheeks. He was trying so hard to invoke as much emotion into the song as humanly possible, and it was working. The violin amplified his feelings and translated it into the sounds the violin was making. The climax was over now, and Phil relaxed, his smile resumed and his scrunched up face looked tranquil and at peace. 

As the song slowed and started to end, the people around me that were dancing in their ethereal light began to fade, until it was just my mother standing in front of Phil. Her brown eyes stared directly at him, she cupped his face with her hand. She looked at me and smiled, I smiled back and she nodded and disappeared to.  
Now it was only me and Phil again. Just us two against the world. Phil pulled the last note out of his violin and I begged the piano for one last roll. The piano complied and I pressed the last note with ease and finesse. A perfect ending to a perfect song.

 

~

 

The silence was resounding. Echoes of the music bounced around the empty hall, clinging onto the last note until there was nothing to hold onto. Me and Phil looked at each other, breathless and sweaty. Both of us awestruck at what we had just played. I noticed how Phil’s eye’s sparkled with excitement and utter joy, reflecting exactly what I was feeling and hopefully portraying what I was feeling. We were in tune with each other’s emotions like each of the strings on the violin or keys on the piano. To be so in tune with another person, having each other’s souls resonate and amplify together was eerie. It was almost ethereal the connection that was forged in the music hall, because even when the song was over, the night gone, and the instruments put away the bond was still there. 

I nodded at Phil, and he smiled. His eyes crinkled and his face looked warm and inviting.

“Better than my piano playing isn’t it?” Phil joked as he set down his violin in the case at his feet.

I laughed, “Much better!” I agreed. Phil came and sat down next to me, looking down at the piano and admiring the shiny pearly surface of the keys. I sighed contently, enjoying the warm presence Phil emitted. 

“You were amazing Dan. The way you play…it’s unreal” Phil quietly complimented. He picked at the black A flat key, almost in shame of what he just said.

I couldn’t help but grin, I couldn’t hold it back. Being complimented by such a fantastic musician made butterflies fly in my stomach and a grin take hold of my face. 

“Uh…thanks Phil.” I say awkwardly as I try and think of what to say to him. “It will never be as good as yours though, it’s absolutely extraordinary the way your violin sings in your hands.” I look him in the eyes as I say that to him. Hoping to send the sincerity of the compliment through my eyes. Phil blushed a magnificent shade of crimson and smiled sheepishly.

“Thanks Dan, that means a lot.” He whispers down at the keys.

I laugh, “Anytime Phil. You honestly deserve all the compliments; your mother would be proud.”

His head snaps up, “Really?!” He asks incredulously, looking at me with worry and doubt in his eyes.

I look him dead in the eyes and put my hands on his shoulder, forcing him to give me all of his attention. “Phil. It doesn’t matter where your mother is, because she is proud of you. She is satisfied with how you play and of how you take care of your violin. She is amazed that you are her son, and wonders what she did to deserve such a caring and gifted musician. Your mother would have shown you off, delighted at the fact that she was your mother. Yes Phil, your mother is proud of you and you alone.” I told Phil resolutely. Phil looked at me with watery eyes, his lips were quivering and I smiled at him. 

Phil broke down and hugged me, crying softly into my shoulder. I held him close, allowing his sadness to wash over me. A couple minutes later Phil stopped crying, instead he just allowed me to hold him. I had turned around and straddled the piano bench as to allow him to sit closer to me. He had rested his head on my chest and shoulder, curling his arms up to his chest and tucking his legs over mine. He fit so nicely against torso, as if he was filling the hole I always felt in my chest. We were again so close and so in tune with one another, even our breathing matched. I wrapped my arms around him and rested my chin on his head. I started to hum the melody of our song, reaching up to pet his soft black locks of hair. Phil nestled deeper into the dark fabric of my jumper, his quiet tears wetting the material. And in this moment, I swear we were whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KUDOS SAVE LIVES


	6. A QUICK LETTER TO YOU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I HAZ ANNOUNCMENTS

HOi!

My name is MJ and I just wanted to say something quickly and announce a couple things:

1st off, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE KUDOS! I love the fact that so many of you have enjoyed reading it, and SO MANY OF YOU HAVE READ IT! Like oh my gosh thank you so much, you guys are the best.

2ndly, I am currently writing the next chapter, and should be published by the 30th. Why not sooner? Well college, the occasional Netflix binge session and napping seem to be taking a lot of my time. So I promise it will be here soon!

Le 3rd item of buizness, I NEED YOUR HELP! i need ideas, or events you want to happen. I have a general idea, but I want to know what you think, or want to happen. Who do you want to make cameo's in? Do you want Dan and Phil to get into a relationship and get a happy epilogue? Do you want more music sessions, or more development to the personalities with other situations? WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?! Honestly, I need some ideas here. (thanks)

And finally, SEND ME PROMPTS! (@the1maplejoe on tumblr) Please DM me (or comment below) and tell me what you want me to write for you, and I will send you PERSONALIZED fan fiction to what ever prompt and OTP you want! The only rule is: No incest or rape, that's a big no no in my book. I won't write anything sexually violent, abusive, or anything like that. But adorable, feels, sad, angst, or even funny I will write! So comment, write, DM, send me an owl if you live at Hogwarts even, with your OTP (or ship of choice) and a prompt and I will write it for you. 

THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH! Seriously, you guys are so cool and I love you beautiful cinnamon rolls so much!

Happy reading

MJ


	7. The Effect of Guilt

Class was absolutely hilarious to say the least. Dan and Chris kept trying to outdo each other with the ‘your mum’ and ‘that’s what she said’ jokes, which had me and PJ in stitches. We would then try and keep a straight face as the teacher glared at us over his thick glasses. He did not look impressed by the four rowdy boys in the back.  
Afterwards, we continued going to class and causing mass mayhem. Dan had a lot of classes with us, and I was so happy to see a little bit more of his personality. He was funny, a little lewd like Chris, creative like PJ, and overall a kind person. He always stopped to help people up, or throw away a piece of garbage which threw me off guard at first. I joked at him, and he blushed profusely. I found I really liked him as a person, not just as a musician. Chris and PJ immediately were drawn to him and took it upon themselves to involve him and officially make him a part of our small group.

It was amazing how quickly and effortlessly Dan was absorbed into the group, he fit so perfectly. He balanced out Chris’s dirty mind, rocketed PJ’s creativity (which resulted in many pranks getting planned involving glitter and chalk), and filled in a hole in my heart I never knew I had. I found that me and Dan were running on the same frequency, as if we were connected even outside the music hall. Many times we said the same thing at the same time, causing PJ and Chris to look at us with wide eyes and then look at each other and smirk. We liked similar bands and food, actors and books. He was quite similar to me, yet so different. I was trying to think of how we could be so similar and yet so unlike, then it hit me. We were like our hands. They were the same basic hands, pale with long fingers with the ability to play music. But Dan’s were smooth and well defined, able to play the keys of a piano delicately with finesse. While mine were thicker and more heavily muscled, able to be deftly move across strings quickly and with power. The same, yet different, with the differences complimenting the other.

Soon, the school day was over and all of us (me, PJ, Chris and Dan) all went over to the cafeteria to eat some dinner. All of us was starving, because (at the insistence of PJ) we skipped lunch. PJ wanted to head to the art studio to grab a few things for his "super secret project of space adventuring". We of course obliged as he gave me and Chris puppy dog eyes, Dan honestly had no clue what was going on so he just shrugged and rolled with it. PJ then scoured the art room, looking for odds and ends. We ended up staying there for a solid hour, helping him look for pipe cleaners (which were no where to be found until Dan opened the very last drawer. Go figure). PJ disappeared with his new found treasure and the rest of us headed to lunch, but we were too late and the lunch people were already packing up leaving us absolutely famished by the time dinner finally rolled around. 

“Oh man I’m going to eat all of the grey sludge today, I’m too hungry to complain” Chris whined as we grabbed the red plastic trays and observed the mash potatoes and thick grey gravy that looked more like toxic waste or ‘the snot of a Rumpsnuff blaster’ according to PJ (no one at this point knew what that was but were to hangry to ask) We all agreed with Chris as our stomachs moaned the sound of beached whales. This made even the grossest kind of toxic waste the angry looking lunch ladies could throw at us better than absolutely nothing. So we went through the line and began to sit down at our usual table, center back of the cafeteria without a single complaint. Me, PJ and Chris all fell down hard in our chairs, exhausted by the day. But Dan stood awkwardly off to the side, unsure of whether he was going to sit with us or not. I looked up at him questioningly and Dan turned away from my gaze.

“Aren’t you going to sit with us?” I asked him, he shifted on his feet and looked down. 

“I would like to, but-” Dan began.

“Oi, Howell.” I heard someone say.  
Dan turned around, and a boy with flaming red hair came running up.

“How are you doing Howell?” He said in a deep voice. The boy was wearing a medium sleeved denim button up and black shorts. His well-muscled arms were clearly seen bulging out of the shirt sleeves. His red hair flopped and stuck out every which way.

“Hi Mark.” Dan said quietly, looking anywhere but at the boy’s face.

“Dan, what’s wrong? I haven’t seen you lately.” Mark asked, concern dripping off his words. Mark stared at Dan with such an intensity that it seemed to burn a hole in Dan's face, making Dan wither and shy away from the red-haired person.  
I stood up and walked to Dan's side, hoping to maybe defend my friend and satisfy the prickling curiosity as to whom this person was.

“Hi I’m Phil. Dan’s friend.” I said with a smile extending my hand to the boy. Dan looked at me, panic in his eyes. Did I say something wrong?

Mark grinned and immediately took my extended hand and shook it vigorously, “Dan’s friend!” he exclaimed as he dropped my hand. I let my hand hang by my side, while he used that hand to stoke his scruffy chin as he looked me up and down. I wanted to hide behind Dan, I wanted to get away from his penetrating stare that was scrutinizing my figure and face. “Oh man Danny boy you sure snagged yourself a nice one!” Mark explained with a laugh. 

Me and Dan laughed nervously. I looked back, PJ and Chris weren’t even paying attention, to busy devouring the food and arguing (again for the third bloody time) about the effects of monster slime. Someone really should come up with better topics for them to discuss (*author laughing in the distance*)   
I turned back to Mark, “Hi Phil.” He said enthusiastically. “I’m Mark Fichbach, Assistant Director of the Art Program” Mark grinned, and I noted the plaster under his eye. His hands were covered with chalk and an assortment of color. Upon closer inspection I saw streaks of multicolored paint and white globs of clay on his shirt. Of course he had to be an art student, there was no way he was anything BUT an art student.   
I smiled back at Marks ginormous grin, and he nodded. He looked so happy and content in that moment, but it seemed forced. I noticed the sad look behind the glimmering eyes, the small frown that followed his smile. He didn't look like he meant his happy and cheerful demeanor, as if it was a mask or husk he hid behind to hide what he really was feeling. I felt how his words were empty, cutting, and without power and conviction. Drifting English out of his lips to conceal his thoughts instead of express them.

I went to say something, maybe a remark or word of courage but Dan cut in before I could get a sound out of my mouth.

“How’s Jack?” Dan asked innocently. The change in Mark was instantaneous. His cheeks flushed a deep red, his left hand came up and rubbed his neck as he looked down and he stopped shifting and fidgeting. His face became even more desolate, his glow in his eyes fading and the smile vanishing. He seemed to reveal a little more of his true nature, and I saw was a little lost boy. Someone who yearned for something and fell short. I understood what he was feeling, and observed the conversation between him and Dan.

“He’s okay I guess.” Mark whispered, cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red, coloring his tanned skin. His eyes got sadder and sadder with every passing moment.

Dan rolled his eyes, “Come on Mark, don’t lie to me.” Dan demanded, forcing Mark to look up.

Mark shook his head, shaking away the obvious sorrow that clung to him. He smiled again, wider than the last and his eyes got that dull, fake glimmer in them. “I didn’t come here to talk about me and my problems, I wanted to know where you have been. You said you were interested in joining the art squad, but you didn’t follow through. I’m wondering what happened.” He bounced around, antsy and anxious and trying to shake off the depression that noticeably weighed him down. 

“Wait you’re an artist” I said to Dan in surprise. I knew Dan was artistic but I didn’t know he was offered a spot on the elite art squad. They were the ones who were in charge of the art that the school was assigned, and sometimes got to go out of state or overseas because of their talent. It was elite, and you had to be the best of the best to even get offered a spot. 

“No, I'm not.” Dan muttered sullenly. He looked down, and I saw the hollow Dan again. He looked like a misplaced toy, but he looked at Mark in the eyes despite the obvious unhappiness in his face. “Mark, I’m not going to do the club. I’m not very good at art (‘bullshit’ Mark whispered under his breath) and I don’t have time.” Dan said resolutely.

“Alright I can’t make you. But think it over.” Mark shook his head, disappointment stated clearly on his face. He turned to walk away when Dan piped up.

“Actually wait.” Dan’s eyes lit up as I saw the gears turn in his head. “PJ?” He called. PJ popped up immediately and walked over.

“Yesh what’s up Dan the Man?” He said to Dan, then saw Mark and looked at him with curious eyes. “Who’s this?” PJ asked politely. I thanked the god’s above that he didn’t make some alien joke or comment. He was known to freak people out with his random facts on alien life and planets and the fecal matter of stars. 

“Mark Fishbach” Dan stated. PJ light up instantly and began to hop around in obvious excitement.

“Mark?! No way, you’re the director of the art and creator of the bronze statue on Main Street!” He ran his hands through his light brown hair, green eyes lit up in excitement.

“Yeah that’s me.” Mark remarked humbly. His sights turned to the inside of PJ’s blazer that was open and flapping the colors on the inside. Mark’s eyebrows shot up, intrigued by the strange colorful boy.

“I was actually thinking PJ should be on the squad?” Dan said, making Mark look up at Dan questioningly. 

“What why” Mark asked.

“Because he is a great artist and has some great ideas. You two should talk.” Dan said pushing PJ and Mark none to gently towards the exit that lead to the Art hall. Mark seemed reluctant, but he looked at Dan. They made eye contact and seemed to host some kind of private conversation. It appeared Dan won, so Mark nodded and followed after PJ. PJ seemed to be missing at the moment because he ran out the exit out of excitement and enthusiasm. He must’ve forgotten to be with Mark because he was to overjoyed and excited at the idea of being on the elite Art squad, typical PJ. Off on his own adventure.

Mark walked down the narrow aisle between the table. I heard a bright and cheery laugh bellow from the right of me. Mark stopped halfway and looked at the table from where the sound of obvious joy had come from. Sitting at the table was a green haired guy with the infectious laugh. He was eating a big slice of cake and joking with his friend. He wore a blue hoodie and light blue jeans with holes in them. His ears had small gauges, and his hair was floofy and electric green. His friends all wore black heavy metal bands that I didn’t know and dark skinny jeans. Many of them had intense piercings and eyeliner. Jack stood out, but he fit in almost flawlessly. Strange, why was Mark looking so intensely at him. Mark shook his head and continued on to the exit. 

“What was that all about?” Chris asked coming up behind me and Dan who were watching the retreating figure of Mark. 

“Honestly, I have no idea.” I told Chris, I looked at Dan, “What was that?” I asked

Dan sighed, “Alright I will tell you.”

We all sat down and Dan set down his tray. We all began to eat as Dan explained what happened.

Dan would always skip classes and hide in the art room. It was his thing since he didn’t know about the piano room yet. Soon he was always painting or doing some arty thing every day. Mark found his hiding spot where he kept all his artwork, and apparently fell in love with the art. So he cornered Dan and wanted him to join the committee, like super bad. That was when Dan found the piano room, so he no longer hid in the art room. He always avoided Mark, hoping the incident would just go away but it just now cornered him again.

“What was with the whole Jack thing?” I asked, remembering the confrontation and the whole change of demeanor in Mark.

“Oh that.” Dan coughed as he tried not to choke on a spoonful of jiggly grey jelly. “Jack is Marks hard core man crush. And in turn Mark is Jack’s huge man crush. Seriously the whole school just wants them to get together already.”

I spit out my water, I didn’t see that coming and it kind of blindsided me. 

Dan laughed as I struggled to not cough and choke on the stupid water, “Surprise?” He joked at me

“I hate you.” I giggle at Dan as I softly punch his arm. He giggles in return, his light behind his eyes returning.

“You don’t do you Phil.” Chris pipes up. “You looooooooove him” Chris screams at me, causing the majority of tables around to whip their heads around and look at us. 

I chuckled nervously, feeling my cheeks turn bright red. “Chris” I whined. I looked at Dan

We made awkward eye contact and looked away quickly, I saw Dan rub his neck in a kind of anxious manner in the corner of my eye. Chris waggled his eyebrows and a couple kids ‘oooooh’-ed. I looked at Dan again, and my cheeks turned bright red. I felt my heart start to beat faster, blood rushing to my face and leaving my hands. I felt cold and warm at the same time as adrenaline coursed through my system. Chris was right, I had found my soul mate and I loved him. I had found my fearsome bear to be my Lion Warrior companion. I had found him finally, and I wasn’t going to let him go easily.

I realized in that one moment, with all eyes on us (all the others and gone quiet to see as what the commotion was) and some boys whooping and hollering, that I had finally tasted love. My mouth went dry as Dan looked at me, his eyes were smiling and his smile was nervous. His face was bright red which made him even more adorable. I wanted to hold him close, I wanted to take away the hollow Dan and fill him with the sparkle and joy that I saw right now. I wanted to kiss him.

But now wasn’t the right time.

“You have no proof” I joked and me and Dan laughed uncertainly.

“Bullshite” an Irish accented voice piped up and the boy with electric green hair stood up and raised his hand to point at me. “Just kiss!” He yelled raising a fist! Students cheered.

Heads went back and forth between me and the green haired person like some intense match of tennis. Some were excited that something was finally going to happen in this dull school. Kissing was obviously not allowed (this was an old school with old ideals) but I didn’t care. In that moment I wanted to, but again now wasn’t the right time.

I laugh haughtily, “You should be telling yourself that about a certain red haired person.” I retorted.

The change in Jack was amazing, his face turned a shade of crimson that would have made Mark’s hair look pathetic. He stuttered a couple sentences then sat down as his gang ‘oh’-ed and whooped at him. The cafeteria broke into fits of laughter, forgetting about me and Dan. God bless short attention spans.

Me Dan and Chris spent the remaining time at dinner joking and playing around. Towards the end of the dinner hour, I went up to Jack and apologized. I didn't mean to call him out on him and Marks obvious affection towards each other. Jack was cool about it, smiling and giggling about the whole incident. i found that I really liked him.  
I returned to my seat after joking with Jack for a solid 5 mins. Dan and Chris were gone, probably off to the dorms. I left the cafeteria after clearing my red tray of the mystery meat, thankful I remembered where Dan’s dorm was (he told me in English).

As I slowly meandered down the empty hallway, I thought about the lunch incident. I stopped and made a fist, having it in front of me in a motion of determination. Next time me and Dan played, I was going to kiss him. 

I came to Dan’s door, resolute in my resolve to kiss Dan tonight. It was going to be a new moon, so it was going to bright outside. It would be perfect. Perfect to show Dan how much he meant to me, and how much I loved him. It had only been two weeks, two weeks of playing piano and violin with him. Two weeks of nights with Dan in the embrace of the music we both created. And it was two weeks that it took me to fall irreversibly in love with him.

I knew my mother would be proud of me and my soulmate. 

So I squared my shoulders and faced the oak door to Dan's room. Reciting to myself the question to ask him to the music hall tonight. I felt the excitement to kiss him, the certainty that he was my soulmate, and the devotion that made my heart beat only for him.

That all changed as I knocked and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I'M SUCH AN ASSHOLE
> 
> THAT WAS ONE HECK OF A CLIFFHANGER
> 
> YOU GUYS OKAY? 
> 
> NO?
> 
> ANYWAYS THE OTHER CHAPTER IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION
> 
> KUDOS SAVE LIVES
> 
> STAY HYDRATED
> 
> AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH TWICE A DAY
> 
> GOOD DAY TO YOU FINE CINNAMON ROLLS 
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> MJ


	8. The Effect of No Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I THOUGHT THE CLIFF HANGER NEEDED TO BE FIXED SO HERE YOU GO

Lonely and an empty void were the two words that immediately came to my mind.

Dan sat on the floor looking up at the lone window that filtered the last rays of sunshine into the room, unaware that I was even there. Upon closer inspection I saw his headphones plugged in and could hear the quiet din they were making in his ears. I looked at him, and worry consumed me. Taking this moment, I looked around the small dorm.  
The room was dismal and sad, gutted of any emotion or color. The bed lay on the right side of the room with the standard red bedsheet that laid neat and folded. And by neatly I mean you could snap a coin on it military style. The pillow sat without a crinkle or flaw. The plain oak desk that sat underneath the window in front of the one window was like a barren desert, devoid of life and personality. Just a flat surface without so much as a scratch or sign of usage. 

The walls were the usual bricks painted white, ordinary but without the band posters, lights, or any other kind of art. The walls seemed oppressive and stalwart, rather than something with room for potential it was more like the walls of a prison. Even the smell of the room smelt like that of a prison. Empty and without hope. The dresser top was without any kind of personal artifacts; any sign of Dan simply wasn’t and never was there. No dirty clothes thrown haphazardly on the ground or on the furniture, no color aside from the stark red of the standard issue of the bed, no music, no art, no Dan. 

And there Dan sat admit the clean and tidy room. A splash of color, a hint of emotion, a scratch or imperfection sitting in the middle of the perfect flawlessly clean room. His brown hair was disheveled, his blazer was half tucked in. He hummed softly to his music, swaying in an otherwise motionless room. No wonder Dan ran away to the music room or the art room to hide away. Anyone would go crazy with the flawless emptiness and overall prison feel of the room. 

I got the idea that this is how Dan felt all the time. This made me want to call to Dan, hug him and ask why he felt so hopeless and trapped. I wanted to help him so bad. Just being in this room made me sick, so how another person could stand it was beyond my comprehension. But no words came. I stood still, staring at the back of Dan’s head. Honestly, a devoid room was not the thing I was half expecting when I had opened the door into Dan’s room.

To be honest, I almost expected to see Dan sitting with someone. Maybe Mark, or someone that I didn’t know. I almost expected him to be in a relationship and therefore be unattainable to me. And as I watched Dan, I realized that I would have been happier seeing him holding hands happily chatting with someone else then sitting with his legs crossed in the middle of the room, hopeless. I could bear the fact that he was not mine, I could live with the fact that I couldn’t kiss him, I could stand without him if that meant he was standing. Seeing him sitting on the bed with some person, holding hands, kissing, or whatever would have been a relief than the sight of desolation and overwhelming sadness that threatened to drag me down. It physically hurt to see someone so amazing suffer so quietly, it broke my heart into pieces that cut me deeply as it shattered.  
I stood there paralyzed, unable to reach out and touch Dan’s shoulder and offer some moment of reprieve from this room. Offer him some small glimmer of hope that was severely lacking in this room.  
Dan began to sing, cutting the oppressive silence like a knife:

“Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories”

His voice was low, but still in tune. He bobbed his head back and forth, probably in time with the music. The sound of his voice echoed and reverberated around the room, filling it briefly with his sound. That was how empty his room was, sucking away Dan. Leeching away at Dan’s life force to try and fill itself full of something, anything. 

“Even though they weren’t that great” Dan muttered again. 

And again the room sucked the sound right out of his lips and echoed it before absorbing it completely. And again I could do anything about it. Not move, not speak, not help in anyway. I was trapped, but not as trapped as Dan was.

Then the song ended, and Dan reached up and took out his headphones and looked up at the empty window that showed nothing but blue sky and white clouds. He gave a resigned sigh as he looked absently and twiddled with the headphones in his lap. He got up, and I was still stuck in place. He picked up his bag that was in front of him and turned around. He made direct eye contact with me. 

Time stood frozen, unmoving as we both made eye contact. He stood there unmoving, looking at me standing in the doorway. His hair flopped in his eyes, his blazer hung awkwardly from his overly small frame. For being as tall, he was awfully skinny.  
His eyes widen in shock; his mouth goes slack from surprise. His already pale face goes white. I could feel my cheeks heat up, but I still was stuck and unable to move.

“Phil?” He asks quietly. 

I finally unfreeze.

I wanted to run away, but I wanted to run to him. My body was pulled into two directions and my brain shut down. When I finally was able to collect my thoughts, and my brain started to react, I realized I was hugging Dan. My body immediately ran to the only place I knew where home was, even if my brain was confused or helpless. 

“Phil?!” Dan asked again, more urgently this time before giving in and hugging me. We stood there for a couple moments before Dan released me, but I didn’t release him. 

“Phil.” Dan repeated more stern this time.

I was too busy sobbing into his shirt to let go, I don’t really know why to be honest. Tears just came and I needed a place of solstice away from the overbearing and trapping walls, I needed to be away from this barren room so empty of my Dan. 

“Oh.” Dan said quietly. He then embraced me harder this time, wrapping his arms firmly around my torso and holding me close to him. I sobbed harder.

“Phil. What’s wrong?” Dan whispered into my hair as he rested his chin against my head. He stood there rocking me back and forth trying to comfort me.

“This-th-is-r-rr-rroo-m” I stutter out, shivering and sobbing. Probably not a good way to try and butter Dan up to potentially kiss him, but I was inconsolable. 

“Oh my room? Is that was has you so sad little Lion?” Dan consoled, I felt a small surprise that he knew my nickname. But I figured Chris and PJ probably told him that’s what I liked to be called on occasion so I didn’t worry to much. 

I couldn’t speak, but I stopped sobbing and instead hiccupped as I clutched to his blazer for dear life. 

“Why are you so upset about my room?” He asked as he played with my hair and held me close. I felt him look around at the empty walls, the empty desk, the empty floor, the empty bed. It was all so empty.

I looked up at him, my face most likely red and puffy from crying accompanied by a slight pout.  
“Wh-wh-er-er-e a-a-arrr-e y-yo-you?” I managed to stammer out.

Dan looked at me with surprise that quickly turned to sadness on his face. His eyes darkened and his mouth frowned. Instead of saying anything, he buried his head into the crook of my neck and held me closer. 

“Because I can’t Phil.” My murmured so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him. 

He couldn’t, what? He couldn’t express his feelings? He couldn’t express himself as a person? What did he mean that he ‘can’t’? 

We stood conjoined and embraced for minuets not wanting to break apart in fear of collapsing. Dan quietly wetting the back of my head with his tears, me hanging onto his blazer for dear life. We reluctantly quieted, only because no more tears could fall and no more sobs could echo in the hollow room. Even though we were done crying, we still clung to each other. When I got my bearings again, I started to hum our song quietly. 

It was the one we had played just last night. The song that Dan played with the piano and I strummed from my strings that controlled the universe and made the stars dance in the dark sky (link to the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwBP07-DUN8). I began to sing quietly the melody, the song that my violin would create for me as I caressed its strings. Dan stopped and I felt tapping on my back. Dan was playing the piano on my back, and humming some of the notes to his part. I smiled into his shoulder and continued to hum, enjoying the feeling of Dan poking gently at my back. Each touch leaving little blossoms of fireworks on my skin, each press sent electricity running down my blood stream, and each hum that vibrated in the crook of my neck sent shivers down my spine. 

“Dan. Let’s go.” I murmur in his ear. 

He nods against me, and I grab his hand to lead him to the music hall. I had no instrument I realized on the way there. So I made a quick left down the hallway instead of the right to the music room so that I could grab my cello. A violin would have been more reminiscent, but I felt like the song needed the darker woodier sound of the cello. Something to portray our emotions more than the sweet and pretty violin who would dance happily in my hands. Dan wasn’t paying attention to where we were going though, I looked back as we walked through darkened corridors. His eyes were downcast, both his hands clasping mine as if letting go would kill him. He walked slowly, talking long heavy steps which had me pulling him along. I noted the lonely hallway we walked down, the other boys were probably doing activities and recreational things before bed, plus the dorms were not technically open yet. 

I ran quickly into the dorm and reached under the second bed on my right, pulling out the big heavy case where my dark wood cello sat inside, nestled away from the elements. I grabbed the heavy case with my left hand, seeing as my right hand still taken by Dan’s two hands. And we ran, we ran as quickly as possible towards our little sanctuary, our little place of refuge. We ran away from Dan’s empty room that reflected how he felt inside. We ran away from the sadness that grabbed us like hands in a swamp threatening to drown us in sorrow and self-pity, and we didn’t stop running. 

Now running with a heavy cello while leading a boy who had dead eyes and a slow gait in normal circumstances would have been impossible, but I found myself fueled adrenaline and excitement. I was amped and ready to pounce, and eagerness to show Dan how I feel and maybe even kiss him (my whole body tremored at the mere idea) just added fuel to the fire. 

I burst through the oak doors that gave a resounding shriek from the jarring effect of a boy and a cello running into it. The hall was still empty, but the piano shone like a thousand suns (blinding me a bit to be honest). The sunset was painting sky a magnificent myriad of colors. The clouds were lavender purple and coral pink. The sky that accented the fluffy bright clouds was colored a mellow orange, intense red, and a cool yellow. The colors mixed and complimented each other, making the dusty glass in the windows glow like amber. The dust particles drifted slowly down around the piano like dying fairies, whose light was going out as night took over.  
The orange shadow cast by the windows grew longer and longer, idly awaiting something to happen. The air was warm and smelt of aging wood, and I felt emblazed with happiness. 

“Sanctuary” I whispered.

Dan mumbled something, then looked up finally. He saw me, then his eyes widened as he observed the music hall in the dying sunlight. Obviously, he hadn’t ever been here during the sunset. He made an o with his lips, and observed the colors and shadows that slept lazily in the light. His eyes feel of the piano, and a small gasp jumped from his mouth.

It glowed with its own ethereal aura. The old oak absorbed the sunlight and reflected it, making it look beautiful and not of this world. The keys shone a brilliant white, the pedals glinted like gold. I could almost taste to hope that oozed out of that piano. I looked at him fondly, I saw the usual sparkle appear in Dan’s eyes.  
I knew, in this instant that this person, this one boy, would complete me. Every. Single. Time. And I knew, without a doubt, I could never ever think of life without him. The look in his eyes, the feeling of his hand in my own, the glowing and dancing light around us, all was perfect. And him, standing there, admiring the piano and looking hopeful and full instead of lost and empty, he took my breath away. 

The sun played on Dan’s features, making pale skin shine and his eyes sparkle a golden chocolate brown. His hair fell softly around his face, floating and igniting the strands as if his hair was a flame. I looked at him, completely captured by this image of Dan. Enraptured by the moment of him standing in the sunset, staring fondly at the piano.

“Dan, lets play.” I say quietly and lead him to the piano with our still linked hands. 

He nods, still a little out of it but complying to my demands. He sits down and looks at the keys, and strokes one softly. It doesn’t make a noise because of how carefully he pressed the glimmering ivory. I go to get a chair, but am pulled back as Dan reaches out and grabs the back of my blazer. I turned around slowly.  
“Sit with me?” He asks, his eyes downcast.

I couldn’t say no. So I pulled up a chair next to the bench and got my cello ready. I pull out the dark wooden body slowly, as to not jar it in anyway. It was already in tune, no need to throw it in out of sync. I pull out the bow, and note the wooden body that was reflecting the sunset. The dark wood became lighter, and began to glisten and dance in the light. But now wasn’t the time for dancing. Now was the time to play.  
I raised my bow, Dan raised his hands.  
But we never got the chance to begin our duet, for the door was knocked down to our sanctuary and invaders came marching in, thirsty for blood.

I still morn that day, even thought it was years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD  
> I DID IT AGAIN  
> I PROMISE THE NEXT ONE WON'T END ON ANOTHER BAD CLIFF HANGER  
> PLEASE DON'T KILL ME  
> WHAT DID YOU THINK?  
> DID I DO A GOOD?
> 
> THANKS FOR READING   
> AND CONTINUING TO READ MY BABBLING INSANITY
> 
> MJ


End file.
